Caelitus Mihi Vires
by Cantate Domino
Summary: Feliciano is becoming a bishop and wants to make Lovino a better Catholic and will do anything to gain such. But, are the nonconformist views of the elder altogether more Christian than Feliciano will ever be? AU: 1516: Florence, Italy; Dark! Feliciano
1. Of Church and Society

_Ora pro nobis, sancta. Dei Genetrix, Ut digni efficiamur promissionibus Christi._

_Whilst the Church's power was on rise, one could only be subjected to remember the fall of all large kingdoms. Invincibility is but a delusion to shroud those in security. It is a redundant story of history's nature to repeat periodically. Yet, it claims victims slowly whilst the collapse is predictable and thus, not sudden. _

The stories were all well known. The empires built on prestige and power had collapsed, yet, that was due to a corrupt system of politics or the means of a stronger power, correct? The means of the Holy Roman Catholic Church were, indeed, holy and so it would only make logical sense that it would live on forever. That was but only right, no?

Ah! It was too early to contemplate such things.

Feliciano Vargas wriggled uncomfortably whilst standing in the box pew of the _Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore_, proceeding to play with the pages of his bible in order to calm his outlandish thinking. The boy had already dropped out of raising his voice to the Lord as early as the _Kyrie_. Thus, through this, showing a complete sign of incompetence in the means of the church.

_It wasn't the first thing either._

The sixteen-year-old had been granted entry into Heaven, as it seemed. Borne the second child of an increasingly wealthy family, inheritance supposedly had brought him all but closer to God. Those of whom died that were kin, died without fear; for through the means of indulgences, purgatory was avoided completely.

He was the nephew of a wealthy bishop that of whom was leading mass at the altar as of now, the light of the many candles illuminating the white robes that garbed the middle-aged man.

He was the son of a successful merchant, an old man now financially committed only to providing for the church and commissioning for the arts.

He was destined to follow down either of those career paths, and, with collective interests in mind, the young boy was sold into a ranking church career.

But, if one were to become a member of clergy, why was it that there was still so much doubt set on matter?

Un-calloused fingers scraped at the edges of _Ezekiel_ before, due to the continuous abuse on the thin paper, a small rip formed, resonating many times louder in the ears of the culprit as would to any of the others in his collective family set in the box pew. In response, Feliciano carefully closed the Holy Scriptures and rested it back behind him on the wooden benches provided, hiding his crime from the eyes of those mortal, but not sparing him from the eyes of God.

However, not all crimes are escapable from the general public.

Feliciano nearly shrieked when a finger tapped his shoulder, forcing the Catholic to look up into nearly livid eyes that were of his brother's. The younger's skittish behaviour and little sounds had disrupted the means of mass.

"Hey, what do you think you are doing?"

Lovino's voice was a sharp whisper, cutting through the monotone of the bishop's lectionary. Feliciano flinched slightly, avoiding his elder brother's intense gaze.

The older, darker-skinned child had thought beyond this, however, and instead, grabbed his brother's chin, staring needles into his startled eyes. With this, the elder had opened his mouth several times as if to speak, but before words were announced, the elder would always refrain from using them, making Lovino a stuttering mess.

_One would not want to present more of a problem in the Church for many reasons. Lovino was no exception to this._

It wasn't long before he released his grip, face proceeding to heat up at the un-approving faces of the 'family' standing on either side of the two, whilst his anger dissolved away into sheer embarrassment. Thus, the events turned to the being of Lovino giving his younger sibling a pathetic sort of look before aiming to bury his face in a randomly chosen page of his own bible; the new, scarlet leather shine of it giving stark contrast to the silken dress shirt of which the darker wore, personal thoughts trapped inside.

In terms of age, Lovino was two years older than Feliciano; and, to add to that, much tanner in the terms of physical appearance due to the means of him being but the result of an adulterated love. He was a sin child in itself, and yet, he gave no means to the look of trying to change, as would be expected by how acted and talked. The elder had an issue with the censorship of his own language and would frequently spend his time trying to flirt with the daughters of rich lords at parties instead of settling down with one as a bride. He ne'er paid attention in his studies either, making him levels behind what he should be in common philosophy, law, and the preferable means of business, of which the elder must conquer in order to take control over the family trade.

It wasn't that Lovino couldn't accomplish these tasks, it's just he was very choosey over what he did undertake.

Lovino's lack of readability was stifling.

And still! Distractions were everywhere in the setting of Sunday mass! And he was supposed to skip the ranks and start schooling to become a bishop! What a horrible Catholic he was! And God had already shunned him enough for his drifting mind in the home!

Feliciano fumbled through the holy pages of The Book of God, searching for Luke 3:1 for the means of the third reading, that having his imagination wander for the first two.

"A voice of one calling in the wilderness,  
>'Prepare the way for the Lord,<br>make straight paths for him.  
>5 Every valley shall be filled in,<br>every mountain and hill made low.  
>The crooked roads shall become straight,<br>the rough ways smooth.  
>6 And all people will see God's salvation.'"<p>

_That's right._

Feliciano used all of his being to prevent his eyes from again lying on his brother next to him, his general presence distracting in the means of God.

"And all people will see God's salvation."

Feliciano mumbled the words aloud, making for them to hit air and stand out slightly in the quiet prestige of the basilica.

It was true. All people must seek for God's ever-holy Hand, and that was what was expected of him in his newly acquired task. It was what he was to be taught. It was what he was supposed to spread.

Biblical verses have always come on to Feliciano as history; something to acknowledge; a means to confirm faith and realize the being of God and Jesus Christ. But now, for the first time, he became all but inspired as if the Holy Spirit was but consuming him at that moment.

Mind-games could not possibly be the reason for such a feeling.

God was acknowledging his entry into the means of the Church.

And such a feeling; what would one have better to do than to spread it to those who have yet to be enlightened?

It was the job of the clergy, of which he would soon become.

Thus, with the illumination sent below through God's word and the potential of becoming the individual in white robes spreading that, Feliciano committed, by thought, to what would be the most difficult and rewarding task that one could imagine.

Ah! But even in enlightenment, he had but let his mind wander again! And now, the family had all but noticed when he dropped out of the recitation of the classic prayers, giving him skeptical looks of shock and disappointment.

The young boy lowered himself in slight embarrassment, catching, in sight, the immature smirk of his elder brother, clearly pleased with the means of karma.

With a similar immature action formed in the means of a pout, Feliciano dug back into his memoury for the Latin needed for prayer, now focused whole-heartedly on the means of mass, following through accurately and without physical or mental distractions.

He needed God on his side to fulfill tasks for Him.

* * *

><p>And thus! But again, mass ended in the time of approximately one and a half hours. The uncomfortable means of wooden benches and excessive standing, as well as Feliciano's own weak knees, had made his legs numb and aching. His foot had fallen asleep halfway through the Eucharistic Prayer and stayed as such until the end, causing for the young boy to waver a bit as he tried to rid it of the odd sensation. Lovino walked next to him, wearing the same bored expression he always did after mass, lobbing his bible into a full swing as if to see how far it could go without letting go of the red binding. On either side were the auburn's beloved parents, dressed in the finest velvet and brocades available, puffed sleeves extending to wrist length even during the hot weather that was present in Florence in the earliest days of July.<p>

Similar to that, Feliciano suddenly became very conscience of his own long sleeves and how hot he was, but as to keep up his high-status air, he wouldn't but dare loosen the neck-high undershirt, nor take off the more decourative layers of clothing. Lovino, on the other hand, had already started loosening the outer layers of his own dress, allowing for tan skin to breathe in the cooling breezes of summer.

And what a weak soul was Lovino! Couldn't he but understand the means of social order? And yet! He was but making him envious! Oh how the younger wanted to lower his morale to allow the air to grace his skin! Lovino was a temptation in itself! Ah! But that is where God would help the both of them!

Feliciano had to remind the other of the constant Eye watching o'er all. Words could not do it for Lovino kept going behind his word, yet…

"God is watching."

It seemed like a simple enough sentence. There were really no creepy means behind it considering that it was merely a friendly reminder that the King of Kings and Lord of Lords always was watching his servants. As a means of kindness, he had even swayed from whispering it and mentioned it casually as a means to start conversation. And yet, Lovino reacted terribly.

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

His response wasn't at all intimidating. In fact, Lovino sounded both alarmed and scared. Still, in reaction to his horrible mouth, _Padre_ gave the older an unsatisfactory look meant to coerce. Apparently the sudden topic-change in the means of the younger sibling distraught the brunette a bit too much, however, and he thus found it necessary to finish.

"Just because you are going off to become a bishop or whatever does not mean you need to go all bat-shit insane instantly! That 'I'm better than you because I'm the door to God' shit is not going to work on _me_ so go cry to your new religious friends. God loves us all the _same_, you idiot. And I wasn't even doing anything _wrong _initially."

After Lovino had finished his rant, he faced the opposite direction, avoiding contact with the younger, Father, or any other beings in the city streets of Florence.

"Besides," he added, "If you want to give a reminder to anyone about the means of God watching, why don't you target your own _leaders_ of the Medici considering that they control _everything_ through the means of unfair business! Oh. And that includes your precious church."

A sound slap followed shortly, echoing louder in the ears of Feliciano, as did the rip of the bible page.

Lovino was silent for the rest of the journey back to the estate.

And still, such standouts and protests about society would get one such as Lovino burned. One did not question the Church.

_One did not question the Church._

Feliciano looked over, once again, to view his brother, now caressing his left cheek in a single hand. His eyes were puffy and watery, filled with unshed tears due to fear of the later punishment and other reasons of which the younger was unsure.

Feliciano was decided.

He was going to do this. Considering his means of his new schooling as well, what was better way to start than to save a lost soul from Hell?

He was going to accomplish this task and would go to any means to do so for God was on his side.

He was going to 'Christianize' Lovino.

And he was going to do it _now_.

**(AN**: **I realized the lack of Hetalia fanfictions placed in the Renaissance and it made me... sad inside. I thus combined that bit of knowledge with my love for Catholicism to satisfy my cravings.**

**I thank my beta of whom provided helpful tips on the confusing mess that is my writing.~**

**As for reviews, I do appreciate feedback and constructive criticism. Things like that encourage one's self-esteem, no?)**


	2. Of Punishment and False Kindness

And as forth! After getting to the modest villa of which the Vargas family shared, Feliciano had seen little of Lovino. Instead, knowing of the other's current predicament, the younger of the two had decided to lock himself inside his own personal study, _Il Principe _spread out o'er his mahogany writing table. Yet, the auburn had remained on the same single page for the last twenty minutes, staring at it as if one would be reading, yet, the words feigned from being focused and processed.

Ah! He had attempted to read the political treatise. He truly had. But alas! He found himself rereading the same sentence all too many times.

_Before all else, be armed._

_Before all else, be armed._

_Before all else, be armed._

He was stuck on that one sentence alone and hated it! The mere anticipation of any noise from below was driving him to prevent advances in his own studies as proven by the collection of candles, lacing the desk in a brighter light than the iron-crossed transoms. They had all been new sticks, and now, they were already halfway burnt down, wax dripping slowly down their sides.

The auburn's finger tapped the page, irritation growing with every passing moment.

Had Father let Lovino off?

But he had disgraced not only the governing family but the Church as well. He did not deserve to be let off, did he not?

Feliciano was about to lose hope and take matters into his own hands when a cracking noise broke through the silence; that being followed by a loud, high-pitched and definite shriek.

A simple smile graced the auburn's features.

Ah. For that was true. Punishment would come with one's insulting of the Church.

_And no one would ever be exempt from that fate._

And thus, Feliciano all but allowed himself to quit his expedition to conquer the writings of Machiavelli. The repeated sounds of a well-earned punishment were too enticing to ignore as another scream filled the quiet serenity of midday. The auburn folded his hands in his lap, leaning back, looking to enjoy the show exhibited through the sounds downstairs.

He had it coming to him, correct?

One could only think that as yet another blow was dealt to the victim below the first story of the prized and large villa, a subtle but definite whimper following shortly after.

Ah! He had almost forgot!

And thus, in emphasis to this, the younger leaned forward in his padded chair, pulling on the elusive iron handle of the second, left-hand drawer to take from it a small journal book. It was of a beautiful variety. His mother had given it to him for his achievements in education when he was all but fourteen years old. Dust had grown accustomed to the leather as it clung to all parts of it but after a firm wipe down from a small cloth, it shone brightly in the combined light of the transoms and the candelabrum. From this, the position of the embroidered design on the front was revealed.

An all-consuming cross.

Feliciano had been saving the little book for a very long time to use as a record at just the right moment. And as another sound strike was heard from below, it seemed like the perfect time to start a memoir for the young man's first accomplishment of bringing one to enlightenment.

A swan quill was acquired from its holder in the centre of the desk, conveniently placed next to the little jar of ink of which the feather was now graciously dipped into. And thus, with a fluid motion, Feliciano used his free hand to open the small diary to the first page, pressing the cut end of the feather unto it to start an entry. And there, after half a minute, stood a title in such elegant cursive that those who mastered the art would all but appreciate its simple beauty.

'_Lovino's Progress Book'_

And so this was the start. And as to continue, the child wrote down but observations of his elder brother's behavioural problems and sacrilegious actions until he was interrupted mid-sentence, the startling aspect of the opening door causing for the auburn to create an unappealing black splotch. Feliciano sent an unintentional glare towards the perpetrator, only to find the startled face of one of the many maids that occupied the home.

_Ah. So that was all._

Feliciano's expression softened immediately. It was not in his nature to act out that way especially in the presence of a lady. Thus, he beckoned her to come into the study; her shoulders now relaxing after the sudden scare with Feliciano's slightly altered personality.

"What is it?"

She bowed her head slightly, obviously feeling the social barrier crashing before her.

"Your father," she graciously paused between words, her eyes focused intenty on the floor, "would like to see you. It seems to be about your new involvement in the church, sir."

No matter her grave tone, Feliciano knew automatically that whatever was to occur was merely praise and perhaps, a new book to add to his collection.

"I see. I will go to him in a few minutes."

"I've always wondered what you do shut up in here."

Out of place. Out of turn. That was one thing that a mere servant should _never_ ask. Feliciano smiled through it however, and instead, offered her a curt answer.

"I study, my dear. I study. And today is no different."

And with that, she bowed her head again and left, leaving Feliciano alone again to stare at the words before him, drowning in the pools of his own thoughts.

* * *

><p>And so, Feliciano attended the 'meeting' he was arranged to have with his father. And as the auburn had predicted, it went exactly as planned. Gratifying praise was given; a pat on the back; and a book. And thus with it, the event altogether was short and sweet. He addressed his father one final time so that he could leave properly, and thus, left him to squalour in whatever business matters he had.<p>

Feliciano had more pressing matters now to attend anyways. He declared to himself that he would save Lovino from Hell. And no matter what, he _would_ accomplish that goal. He was going into the Church, therefore, one must live to satisfy such, no? And, despite the elder's behaviour, the fact of the matter was that Feliciano did love his brother more so than any other being in the world. Thus, he would not want him to suffer in society or in God's eyes, correct?

Ah! He knew he was correct so there was no point in arguing with himself. Besides of that matter, he had a progress book to fill up today! And how would one fill a progress book up when one had no interaction with the person in question in the first place?

Feliciano mentally smacked himself for his ignorance and wandering mind. He needed to remain focused for his mission and his career; yet, he struggled with it so heavily.

Ah! The auburn let out an exasperating sigh on his walk throughout the heavily decourated halls of the manour. He was getting distracted yet again. His mind was interfering with him to the point of which he missed the required turn intended to go the upper stories. Thus, he had to retrace his steps, physically shaking his head at his own stupidity as the original destination was reached in his relapse.

And now! Without disruption on his own part, Feliciano ascended up the stairs to the west end of the hallway back into his own study, proclaiming '_Lovino's Progress Book'_ and his own bible; left in the drawer above where the small diary was kept. And simply from the study, it was not a difficult task to reach Lovino's room as otherwise marked. It was but a two-door down trip located on Feliciano's left, placed with an oaken door as all the others were.

The younger now allowed for an up-turned hand to tap against the hardwood, letting it echo soundly throughout the spacious room of which Lovino used as a resting zone. When no response was heard from the other end however, Feliciano used the opportunity to twist the intricate doorknob, allowing himself access to the elder's quarters, praying to God that Lovino would behave.

And alas! Lovino was all but seated on his bed, positioned in a ball-like stance with his head in his folded arms. And behold! He could be considered beautiful when he remained quiet like this, resting in silent tranquility. With his face hidden, his sullen expression was lost. Thus, this pointing out the true beauty that God had bestowed upon the adulterated child.

The now confident Feliciano thus left his stationary position in his elder brother's doorway to continue his initial task of which, in amends to, the elder did not budge.

It was not until the younger had placed a hand on him that Lovino took some sort of action. He did not budge, but instead, whimpered pitifully, saying something in such a sorry voice that one could not decipher words from gibberish. Thus, in an effort to sooth and understand whatever Lovino was speaking, Feliciano moved his hand to rest on the elder's newly applied nightshirt, rubbing his back slowly to show his hospitality.

"What was that, Lovino? I couldn't hear you."

Feliciano put on his sweetest angel voice. The one of which the Church's choir highly envied; or so his father had said.

More muffled words left the unmoving figure, only materialising so that the brunette's arms could hear.

"Lovino. I can't help you until you speak to me. Whatever sins you may have committed will be forgiven in the eyes of God. I'm trying to bring your soul to salvation. I don't want to see you rot in Hell."

The sugary tone was so placidly used that it sounded a tad bit darker than intended. Yet, he was sincerely concerned with whatever ailed Lovino. In a means to show this, the more accomplished brother took his hand away from the back and wrapped his arms around the adulterated child's ball-like form from behind, tightly holding him verbally with his whispers of sweet nothings.

And still! Lovino did not budge; did not swipe the younger's hands away; but instead, continued his little muffled noises, his sleeves turning darker with what was presumed to be tears.

"You may be a rotten child, but God appointed me to help you."

"God did not appoint you for anything, you ungrateful bastard."

Ah! So the child was not dumb. He could still speak. Still, the words that left the brunette's mouth triggered a buried sense of deep anger.

Feliciano swallowed it however, only allowing the unwanted spark to manifest on his features for a second. Father had always argued how patience was a virtue, and he was not one to throw it away so quickly. Still, if Lovino proved to be difficult…

"I think we have forgotten exactly _who_ is the 'bastard' here, son of sin."

The tone of the auburn's voice was so artificial and snide that Lovino tensed immediately, reacting horribly to the unfriendly reminder of exactly _how_ he was brought into this world. Feliciano liked the control that comments like that earned. They made one feel empowered; strong. It gave one a sense of dominance.

He would have to remember to record that in his little book; reminders of Lovino's place.

Assuming the brunette's usual submissiveness after a beating, the younger did not expect for the other to speak again, yet…

"Get out."

His tone was very quiet, muffled heavily by his, now tear-stained, sleeves.

"What was that?"

Feliciano must have heard wrong. Lovino could not be giving _him _a command. He needed to re-hear this absurdness to confirm the fact that it must have been his own ears playing tricks.

"Get the hell out of my room now! I don't want to see you, God dammit!

"Brother, do not use the Lord's name in-"

"I don't care!"

And for the first time since the younger had entered the room, Lovino lifted his face. Ah! Only anguish was spread across it, tears marring it beyond beauty in streams of red marks. Said tears were still remaining at the corners of the elder's eyes, continuously spilling as time went on.

Feliciano remained static throughout it all.

"Leave me alone! I want to be alone! I can only be happy when I am alone, don't you get it? I don't need you, or Father, or Mother, or anyone. I've got all the friends I need, idiot!"

"Brother, you do not have any-"

He was interrupted again.

"Shut _up._ Everything I could need or want is in my thoughts. I have my own world to attend to. One without mindless _fools_ like you."

After his hysteria, Lovino decreased back unto the level of submissiveness that he demonstrated beforehand, placing his head back into its previous position.

Ah! And unto this, Feliciano, in his confusion, crawled around on the down bed to face the frenzied child. A hand outstretched, he brought his brother's face out of its cocoon; caressing a reddened cheek as gently as the younger sibling could manage.

"But you are the fool, Brother. And it seems like I need to prove that to you."

Lovino's look was of pure confusion. Naïve confusion. And yet, the bewilderment in his eyes only enlightened the younger more.

"You're taking the path to Hell right now, brother," Feliciano's act and tone were aloof in the means behind the setting, "and God told me to save you, as I had said before."

Alas! And with this, the younger had gotten up and reclaimed the bible of which he treasured so dearly and paged through to the holy book of John, rejoining his brother on the bed shortly thereafter.

"_My dear children,__ I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense__—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One.__ He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins,__ and not only for ours but also for__ the sins of the whole world.__  
><em>_ We know__ that we have come to know him__ if we obey his commands.__The man who says, "I know him,"__ but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in him.__ But if anyone obeys his word,__ God's love__ is truly made complete in him.__ This is how we know__ we are in him.' _1 John 2:1 – 2:6"

The biblical verse was left on air for a moment, allowing time for the adulterated child to digest it. However, it took too long. Lovino simply remained there, staring blankly into space as if he were possessed.

"God's love is not in you, brother. I want to put God's love in you."

And as so, Feliciano wrapped his clothed arms around Lovino yet again, feeling the elder tense in his grasp at the embrace, face unseen.

"It's alright. I've got you, son of sin, and I will never let you go. The road that we traverse on is now submerged."

The light from the sun now enveloped Lovino's bed, causing everything to be drenched in a deep, all-incasing scarlet. And so! It dyed the elder's frame entirely in red in its illumination. And still Feliciano smiled coldly against his brother's now-cold shoulder as his hands fumbled across new wounds, fingers caressing them through the fabric.

"Whether you want it to be or not."

**((AN: As for the wait, I do apologise… some personal traumas did come up. Due to that, I had no time for my beta to go over this… and thus… I will not take it down and repost it… **

**As for this… it is still part of the prologue almost. I am intending to set up a standard relationship before diving into the plot. Even so, I do hope you stick with me for that then. And more so, considering the research I did for this, I hope that you are learning from this. Knowledge is an important standard, and ignorance, in contrast, leads to intolerance.**

**I did move the rating up. The reasoning being for the direction that this is headed into.  
><strong>

**Again, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I like to improve my writing as you all do, therefore, if you see something that needs betterment, then don't be afraid to tell me.))**


	3. Of Cruelity and Daydreams

And so, the beautiful day had transitioned into a silent night, laced by the light of a waning crescent moon. When Feliciano had left Lovino on the bed, the elder did not leave to rejoin those in the waking world, but instead, remained inside his chamber with the door securely locked.

And even so, throughout dinner, the younger felt an almost eerie silence befall the room; even with a discussion led by Mother and Father dearest. The empty chair on his left held a sense of something unknown that left the younger feeling disturbed.

No one questioned the absence. No one was aware of the activities that had taken place in Lovino's room. It was one of those stories lost forever in the labyrinth.

Several notes were taken in _Lovino's Progress Book_, now securely locked in that second left-hand drawer in the study, and the mere thought of the book resting there made the auburn giddy with absolute joy and gaiety.

But silence! No one discussed the other brother! It always seemed that bad things made news, so then, with the evil surrounding the elder; Mother and Father's perpetual happiness was unusual.

But then again, Feliciano's parents seemed almost oblivious to Lovino's personal demons. And, to avoid trauma, the younger would merely feign from telling them.

_It would just be their little secret._

And still! Why is it that when one is anticipating something, food tastes so much better? Feliciano hadn't enjoyed a meal like this in so long, purposefully knocking over a bottle of olive oil to spill on the large, course bread it was served on as to treat others with his happiness. That bread would reach those poor and hungry, and they deserved to be cheerful for motives towards God as well, aware of the happenings or not.

Still, in the end, Feliciano was the first to excuse himself from his meal, the small talk between his parents proving to not be anything of which was new or interesting. Thus, he retreated immediately from the elaborate dining room down the connected hall with a confident gait.

And still! He did not miss his turn this time. The corridor leading to the upstairs was now lined with lighted candles on their stands curved and nailed on from the wall. Their golden flames provided pockets of light for the entirety of the short trip to the second story of the Vargas manour. Even so, the young man found himself taking a candlestick from one of the decourative, foreign-imported tables in the hall anyways with the knowledge of the second level's darkness at this time.

Candlelight reflected down the long, darkened hall of the upper story, showing door upon door as Feliciano reached each. Considerably, besides studies and personal quarters, most of the doors merely led to guest rooms, as though company of all sorts within the government, business and church stayed with the Vargas family quite frequently. Still, in contrast to the luxurious first floor filled with dining rooms and glorious ballrooms and exquisite décour, the second story hallway was rather bland and ordinary in terms of appearance and space. The painting of the walls and the quality of the darkened wood floors and doors still met the upper class stupour, yet decouration was barren to a mere few paintings with little in terms of tables, chairs, and various flowers, statues, and sculptures. Still, the sustainable quality of the hall did little to the quality of the family quarters, and as proven, the doors of the immediate family seemed slightly more extravagant.

Lovino was still no exception to this rule, like various others, yet, the major difference between his door and the remainder of the other doors on the floor was the fact of the door's own state. Lovino's door was locked from the inside as so that no one could enter as previously stated.

Alas! Feliciano could only assume that Lovino was contracting with Lucifer as of this very moment. How dare he think that he can lock himself from God! And yet again, alas! Feliciano still had the ounces of optimism needed to consider highly of Lovino to a certain extent. Lovino was not truly evil, but merely guided by it. Perhaps he was in the midst of slaying his own demon and would come out in the light of God.

Ah! But that was a silly thought.

If Lovino were to try, he would need help; and that is where the younger man would follow in his own holiness, correct?

Mentally nodding at his accurate thoughts, the young man agreed with himself to refrain from tapping on the door. Instead, he pressed his ear against it in hopes to hear some sort of clue to unlocking Lovino's freedom to heaven, God and, synonymous to that, his loyalty to the Church and to the Pope.

Silence persisted thereafter.

And said silence proceeded for quite sometime! Thus, after a certain period filled with waiting, Feliciano pulled away, taking off of his own person a single piece of parchment in doing so.

It was but a page torn from _Lovino's Progress Book_, but alas! For small note taking, one did not need a large piece of parchment at all. He had carried it on himself since his interaction with Lovino and accompanied it by quill, of which he managed to stick into the top of his silken undershirt without notice.

And with these instruments, the young lad procured from it, a note; which read as follows:

_Of my dearest and only brother,_

_Since our paths had become mingled with the times, I have but wanted to merely find out more about you, yet, you will not talk to me._

_Why is that, dearest? I am trying to help you. To show you the light. You resist me as you resist the Church, and I am disheartened by your cold nature._

_If you are avoiding and degrading God, then, by some means, some sort of demon must have come o'er you. I, as your caring and doting younger brother, shall help you in the destruction of that demon, but if you do not open to me, I shall assume that evil thoughts had gotten into your head. In this case, God allows us to use force to rid others of the grasp of Satan, and I will not hesitate to do so._

_Still, I just merely want for my eldest brother to be purified so that we may live happily in the same family. I do not want to hurt you, and I want you to know that anything that I do will be out of love and saving you from Hell._

_It is my duty as your brother and as an official member of the clergy._

_- Feliciano Vargas_

The pen halted after his signature. Horribly, he began to question himself and his own acts. Writing one's thoughts often leads to such an action; of outmost contradiction that is. Where had that innocent child gone? The one of whom so dearly believed every word of his elder's advice? What was lost in the naïve days of long ago where he and Lovino would explore and ponder o'er even the smallest of things? It had been such a very, very long time since the younger had laughed in such a pure way.

Ah! And one could only wonder where that came from? Lovino was a liar, a sinner, and had deceived the younger, but still, the thoughts of escaping his own plans remained as a small trickle of light? And that could not be, for it would be in violation of the church.

Feliciano remained outside Lovino's chamber as of now, eyebrows knit in contemplation. His head now hurt, but the younger couldn't help but feel watched by some unknown power.

What was this peculiar sensation? Ah! It may be assumed that it was his conscience but how could that be so? The alternate route showed cowardice and lack of commitment towards God! It was that eternal battle of good versus evil! And with these thoughts, evil was overbearing and overtaking! Lucifer was trying to lead him away using nostalgia, the sly cretin!

Feliciano refused to fall under the devil's watch, and thus, isolated his mind from thought. He acted monotonously and mechanically, slipping the letter underneath the solid door. The ink had dried o'er the time that he had spent pondering his options, allowing for the prevention of the belief that the paper may have become smudged on its trip through the door.

And thus, with business diminished, Feliciano turned from the door and continued to the end of the hall, opening the door on the far end and proceeding to enter and lock it from the inside.

He was in his study.

And as forth, he sat down at his desk with an overall bearing of agitation and reclaimed _Lovino's Progress Book_.

Lovino had tried to overcome him with Satan's power. It was a force to be reckoned with.

And Feliciano, under this pretense, knew of the immediate action that needed to be taken.

He withdrew the pen from its holder and pressed it upon the newest page of the parchment.

His vigorous writing echoed throughout the room, depleting the silence there.

* * *

><p><em>Good and evil.<em>

_How could mankind decipher the difference between the two? The children knew it best. Those who were naïve and innocent and not yet exposed to the corrupt means of society. Those who clung onto the past in the sense of a child questioning right from wrong were deemed the greater evil and cast aside. Society corrupts. This would be stated later by one of the most noted philosophers of all time in an age yet to be on the horizon. In that age, things were made to be questioned. Change came. However, this was not that era. Great demons ran disguised as angels, their bellowing silken coats laced with gold were a lie of moral wealth. Humanism was in vogue, not moral laws. And still! Those who questioned. Those left in subjective innocence were the ones who fell. The ones who suffered. The year now was 1516. In a year, it would all change. A German man by the name of Martin Luther would post 'Disputatio pro Declaratione Virtutis Indulgentiarum,' or 'The 95 Theses,' on the church door in Wittenburg. It was a collection of previously unspoken flaws within the Catholic church. Word would spread and a new movement would start._

_However, the year was 1516._

_The year was 1516 and the Vargas' were in the city-state of Florence, not Germany. Anyone who would try to reform here would be burned immediately. Those with relatively enlightened ideas were shunned by society. _

_And in this second group, fell the adulterated child, Lovino Vargas; aged at eighteen and son of an esteemed businessman._

_And here fell Lovino Vargas._

* * *

><p>His vision was blurry, marred by sleep. His back was in pain. It took quite a bit to rejoin the conscious world at this point. He threw a single hand up to face the ceiling, noting on how he could barely see the outline of it. The room was pitch-black. The boy questioned to himself where he was.<p>

The surface of which he laid on was very hard, and, feeling it, it was noted to be wood. The cold air compiled through an open window and the boy shivered, realising that he was only in his undergarments.

He stood up, his back screaming in protest due to his sleeping on the floor and the scars that he realised marred his skin.

And great luck! The fireplace in the corner seemed to keep some live coals in it, the tiny streaks of oranges and yellows glowing radiantly in the pitch black. The boy walked o'er to it, the hardwood floor cold underneath his bare feet, and kneeled before the outline.

A few breaths of his own and the addition of new wood added to a pitiful fire shortly after. However, while not providing the heat the boy would have wanted, the flames did allow for objects in the room to take shape, the colours of the blaze reflecting on cabinets and dressers in a flickering pattern.

It showed to be a personal chamber with a large bed in the center, the blankets of such thrown into complete disarray.

The boy walked o'er to them and ran his hand across the silken material of one of the sheets. They were cold in his grasp, meaning, he had not just fallen off of it.

Said bed was inviting, however, for some unfathomable reason, he refused to lie upon it.

Was there something peculiar about this bed?

A leather-cased bible lay beside it, cast off into the shadows.

And then, as the curtain of drowsiness lifted, this boy, Lovino Vargas, came back into reality with a start.

_That's right. Feliciano…._

He put his head in his hand and sat himself back on the floor in front of the fireplace.

_Yes, that is right._

Lovino had come to broad in his room after what he deemed an unnecessary punishment; however, his brother soon joined him and, in doing so, a cold aura completely surrounded his person.

Lovino did not hate the other necessarily. However, it seemed that Feliciano was not himself as of the late. The younger was the favourite of all, and, even though he hated to admit it, it was for a good reason. When the two of them were children, he was endearing and naïve; innocent and obedient; where he…

He was not.

They were good friends when young, though the older would hate to admit it. And Lovino… he did love him.

But, however that may be, Feliciano changed. It wasn't a permanent change, but it was still marked there. The younger's innocence made him more prone to be corrupted by a system in which Lovino knew was wrong.

However! Lovino's own logic was judged by his isolation and his readings, most of which he possessed illegally; thus, accuracy could be put off by isolation. And yet….

The bad feeling did not leave.

Ah! But Feliciano did not hurt him. It was not direct means that allowed Feliciano's changed personality to shine through. No. But, even with the gentleness of the voice and touch, there was a bitter cruelty that enveloped all of the younger's actions and sent chills up Lovino's spine.

What did he allude to earlier? Was Feliciano accusing his elder of heresy?

The boy's head hurt yet, the floor not faring well on his fragile stature. He did not want to over-think this sort of thing. Thus, he folded his hands and prayed.

God recognised that Satan did not possess him, correct? He wouldn't shun one of his followers. He may not have had the bible memourized from cover to cover, he may not be the most attentive during mass; he cussed; he got drunk to the point of sickness; he spoke truthfully at the worst of times and lied in similar cases; but, a true, merciful God would still love him for his faults anyways, right?

That was what Jesus had died for on the cross.

Still! It did not change society! Feliciano's words were not his own but the phrases of said society! He was poisoned by it! Or even so! Maybe Lovino himself was poisoned! It was one of those contradictions that left one tongue-tied for no one knew the answer until it was too late. After all, Lovino's method of coping was to sit and wait for things to change. He was hypocritical in the sense of complaining about a corrupt system but not doing anything about the situation.

He was a coward in all forms of the word.

Still, he did not want to confess that to himself, even though he knew it. Instead, he contemplated lighter topics like the means of how he had ended up on the floor.

That, in the changing of subjects, was due to the uncomfortable feel of Feliciano and his advances, as he now knew. It was just a means of remembering. He hated the negative aura the blankets had had after his sibling had left, so instead of using the bed, he had laid on the ground with the intent of going into his daydreams.

Daydreams led to drowsiness however, and thus, the brunette had soon found himself transitioning from conscious thought to sleep, and, some time later, he had woken up into the position he was in now.

Ah, and his head was still pounding.

He re-gathered himself from his position and thus, pursued a new one with hopes of a lighter conscience, heading towards the mirror placed on the west wing of his chamber.

And through it all, the elder Vargas dragged his bare feet for the entirety short distance, drowsiness still consuming his mobility.

Horrid! He reached the mirror as to see himself with a morbid curiosity and was repulsed by the image reflected back at him. His hair was a tangled mess, greasy, and filled with fly-aways. His face was marred by red tracks where tears had previously been, with his eyes still puffy from such and filled below with large bags emphasizing his exhaustion. Lines from the hits of the switch wrapped around to his exposed sides in some areas, already purple and yellow with bruising. He was, all over, pale and looked quite ghastly.

This was not him, but a shell trying to take the form of him.

And still, Lovino could not help but be enraged. And, as so, in anger, we do stupid things. Since the image was so horrifying, the natural instinct of fighting or fleeing overcame with the choice of taking violent action.

But, against a mirror? How could that prove anything? Anger blinds us, so thus, we do not think of these things and Lovino, being human, was no exception to this rule.

His fist, moments later, hit the reflective material, shattering it instantly. The image faded in sudden fragments, breaking into smaller ones once they had hit the ground with a loud clamour.

Pain came to Lovino shortly after, and, as much as he tried not to, a sound shriek followed upon contact.

There were pieces of the mirror stuck in his skin. Blood seeped down in streams of red, drenching his arm in the iron-enriched fluid. Small, deep cuts were presented all o'er with one large gash laced across the knuckles. Said blood had now begun to drip unto the ground in addition, spattering the broken mirror shards with tiny orbs of scarlet and still reflecting Lovino's face.

He had broken his wrist.

And the pain was excruciating.

He felt bile rise up from his stomach and he gained an overall sense of lightheadedness from the blood loss and the visual appearance and connection of said blood itself. The brunette's knees buckled; and he silently sobbed o'er his injury.

And thus, with the agony, he did not notice the figure standing in the door with a candelabrum in one hand and a bible and pointed metal rod of some sorts in the other.

* * *

><p>Work! Self-imposed or not it was a difficult task to get so much done so late at night!<p>

Feliciano was pondering o'er such a thought when a loud crash and a scream broke his concentration.

At first enraged about the disturbance, he was later intrigued. It had come from Lovino's quarters, correct? He must have been in great pain to make a sound like that. This work! It was about him after all, was it not?

Was it his demon? Was now the time to strike? Did his letter trigger such a negative action from Lucifer?

Questions not answered by God, Feliciano immediately discontinued his work, depositing _Lovino's Progress Book_ into its proper drawer and instead, proclaiming his bible. In addition to such, an old candle holder was reclaimed from its dusty spot in the depths of the younger Vargas' large desk, abandoned long ago due to its breaking. It's broken end still held sharp spikes of metal from the uneven fracture.

Items proclaimed, he relieved himself from his desk and took the old candelabrum with him, leaving the study in a sense of dark solitude.

And still! Even though he was an adult, he couldn't help but fear what unholy beast awaited him! When one has such an adrenaline rush with this sort of dealing, time seems to have no value, and instead, it slows to a complete and utter halt. Still! That is why it seemed like years to reach the intricate door but a few doors down!

Feliciano knew better than to merely knock, but he opened the door with such caution that a thief would admire his skills! And success! Lovino was in the room but had not noticed him.

Yet, Feliciano had to hold back his own stomach! Lovino's hand! It was covered in blood! Streams of it ran through his arm, dying it scarlet, with pools on himself and the ground collecting elsewhere. His mirror was now just a base with shards collecting all around it. And what idiocy! Lovino sat but in the shards, causing for more cuts to mar his legs.

The wounds. They must have been unbearable for Lovino still did not notice the younger wandering into his chamber, setting the bible and candelabrum down gently on the elder's own desk. Still, he took up the third item, the deformed candlestick, and then approached the still oblivious Lovino, only sparing a moment to the unread letter in its same spot under the door.

Ever so carefully, he did advance until he was but right behind him, holding the rod up high above his head.

It took but one blow to the back of Lovino's own head.

The elder let out a small squeal and hit the shards below him, then lay silently with no response whatsoever. New blood pooled seemingly everywhere, with the most now being from the wound on his head.

And he lay there, motionless and rendered unconscious, the entirety of his front ripped horrendously from the mirror. The only sign that he was still breathing was the rise and fall of his chest ever so slight against the weight of the shards.

And Feliciano stood there, just as motionless, in the same position of which he held since the blow.

The fire still lived and flickered quietly in the background.

**((AN: I seem to be horrible with these progressive updates… then again… summer reaches near… and thus… I shall be able to update more often. Considerably, an actual spin-off of this series has also been recently consuming my time, and I apologise for that as well.**

**I was also fearful of changing POVs in the middle of this… but… I somehow deemed Lovino's side necessary, and thus, I included it.**

**As usual, I always respect constructive criticism, and if you notice any historical inaccuracies… please tell me IMMEDIATELY so that I may change them.**

**I hope that no one takes offense to this fanfiction... for... I do express heavy political ideas in it... that being said... you do not have to agree with me politically... just... do understand that I am not trying to draw a person away from humanism.**

**In addition... I already find this to be... disturbing to myself... so again... please consider this fact.))**


End file.
